


Tired

by Kunabee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Good night, all interpretations are valid, and so am i!, do they fight asgore?, do they just give up their soul?, does toriel come screaming from the ruins?, frisk is just tired, is the barrier broken?, sad but a peaceful and ambiguous end, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 11:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunabee/pseuds/Kunabee
Summary: and with this, nanowrimo begins. i will not be posting anything in that time cuz i'll be working on my novel.i'll see ya'll in december.





	Tired

Frisk wasn't determined. They were just tired. So, so tired.

The Ruins monsters were kind. They had laughed with them and were really just afraid. Frisk understood fear. In the end, they had smiled and gone on their way. Then Toriel had faced them, and she struck them down and didn't remember that Frisk had died.

The snow was cold, soothing burns that didn't exist except on their SOUL. The skeletons had been terrifying, but then they didn't turn out so bad - until Papyrus went all-out to try and capture them.

Waterfall was scary. Being hunted down by a killer... no, not really. Undyne wasn't so bad, in the end, even if she set her house on fire and reminded Frisk of fighting Toriel.

Hotland had Mettaton and Alphys and they had laughed and enjoyed themselves until it turned out Alphys had been lying all along and Mettaton _actually_ tried to kill them.

They walked through the Judgment Hall and faced Sans and Sans praised them for never gaining LOVE but gaining love and told them that everyone was rooting on them.

That's when they cried, finally. They sat down and cried. They had _died_, so many times now - to Toriel (horror on her face hands to her head), to Papyrus (shock and regret and fear), to Undyne (triumph but then regret), to Mettaton (surprise but then triumph and hope).

How many times would they die to Asgore's hand?

How many times?

And they would have to kill him, in the end.

They were so, so tired.

They laid there, unable to bring themselves to move.

What happened when determination ran out?

They were... so tired...

"Frisk?"

That was their name.

Not once, throughout the entirety of their nightmare, had someone asked their name. Nobody could possibly know their name. They look up, unseeing. A human stands before them.

A human? Underground? Impossible.

"Frisk, it's time to get up." Their voice is gentle. They crouch down, poke at Frisk. "Come on, now. It's time to get up."

They blink, slowly.

Do I have to they wonder but do not say.

"We're almost there now. Don't you want to go home? Don't you want to be free?"

They think of all the monsters through New Home who proclaimed their joy, their joy because Frisk would die and there would be seven human SOULs and a broken barrier.

"Nobody is happy like this," they say, finally.

"Come on, Frisk," says the human child in front of them, "You can do it. Just get up. Just keep moving."

I'm so tired, they think, and their voice cracks even in their mind and their mouth feels so, so dry.

"I know. But giving up like this..."

"You're right," says a terrible voice. The human child disappears and Flowey pops up from the ground, cackling. "Nobody is happy like this. So you - have - to - get - up!"

Horrible vines latch around their arms and legs, forcing them to stand and then to walk. Frisk lets out a choked cry.

"Come on, Chara, this isn't like you!" Flowey cries, "You never give up - never! Unless..."

The vines retreat. Frisk stays standing.

"You TRICKED me! You horrible, wretched brat! You were never Chara at all!"

White pellets surround their RED SOUL.

It's dim, now, not bright like it used to be. Scratched and burnt and scarred and so, so tired.

The state of their SOUL gives Flowey pause.

They walk away - through the pellets, despite the burn, forward. Always forward.

They're so tired.

They just want to rest.

They come to Asgore and collapse in his flowers, unable to keep moving. Gold... so soft, so sweet, such a good color... such pretty flowers...

He gives them tea and food and has them sit down. They eat slowly, and then ravenously, stomach growling. How long since they last ate? How long since they stopped moving forward?

They heal. Asgore says nothing.

His voice cracks when he finally speaks, their food and tea both gone.

"Stay as long as you'd like, young one," he says, voice wavering, "Just... stay as long as you like."

So they do. They're just

so

tired.

**Author's Note:**

> and with this, nanowrimo begins. i will not be posting anything in that time cuz i'll be working on my novel.
> 
> i'll see ya'll in december.


End file.
